Sunday, 1 February 2009

An ode to pink wafer biscuits

Following a bacon and egg on squishy whitebread sandwich for breakfast, something forgettable for lunch and an extra large portion of lasagne and garlic bread for dinner, I decided that the diet was so obliterated that a small ice cream would cause no further harm.

I got the scoop out and handed my children triple chocolate ice-cream (deep chocolate ice cream with chocolate sauce and chocolate flakes on top) squished into a cone, before making one for me.Nothing beats ice cream in a cone. Ice cream on its own is wonderful to be sure. But in a cone, it becomes something almost godlike.

I must clarify here. While those waffle cones are all very well, what you really want are the cheap wafer cones that come in tin foil tubes, neatly stacked into one another. They are made of no known natural substance, but there is something about their artificial crunchiness that just whisks me back to childhood. When we grew up the cones came in different colours, resulting in maximum arguments about who was having which colour. I am so pleased the cones I buy come in one colour only: yellowy beige.

Crunching around the top of my cone this evening in a haze of quiet contentment, I was reminded of my love for all wafer biscuits or cone type things. Where I grew up, you'd buy tins of assorted biscuits and in amongst the ginger nuts, foiled wrapped chocolate biccies or jammy dodgers, there were always little miniature chocolate and strawberry wafer biscuits. The kind with the fake icing inside. They were always the first to go, certainly if I was left anywhere near the tin.

When I was pregnant (both times) I had only one craving. Pink wafer biscuits. Not your Waitrose top of the range Italian wafer biscuits. No. The lurid pink triple layer wafers filled with fluorescent pink cream by the well-known brand 'Happy Shopper'. I could only buy them from our village shop. I've never seen them anywhere else since. I do believe 'Happy Shopper' is a brand of nastiness that supplies far flung village shops. These wafers cost 49p a pack. I know. I bought one pack a day. You get approximately 20 to 30 wafer biscuits in a pack. I could eat them all in a single sitting. By the end of it, I'd be shrouded in a pink wafer biscuit cloud, with particles floating lazily in the air, the floor around where I'd be sitting looking the base of tree in spring.

I loved those pink wafer biscuits. I mean, really loved them. There must be something addictive about the E-numbers that make lurid pink. Whatever it is, nibbling on my cone this evening made me realise how long it's been since I'd had them, or indeed, even seen them. So I did a little searching. And found that Ocado stocks these. They're not Happy Shopper, but they look suitably plastic to satisfy me. I feel an online shop coming up....

4 comments:

Mmm! I used to like trying to bite the slices apart and then let the wafery bits melt on my tongue. I always wondered if this is what communion wafers tasted like.

I went to Catholic school, but as a non-Catholic wasn't allowed to try them. A friend was going to smuggle one out of mass for me, but chickened out at the last minute. Afraid she would be struck down.

Modern Mother - haven't sent a post in. Not sure any I've written of late are worthy. All just navel/naval gazing drivel. Will investigate though.

Katyboo - the communion wafers I've had (CoE not Catholic) taste like more chewy versions of ice cream cones, only with less flavour and with a more glue like consistency. Not something really worth attending communinion classes for if that's your only reason for going. The wine on the other hand is pretty good.

I had a pregnancy craving of wagon wheels. Similar thing. They contain no ingredient that is recognisable as food. It's like eating a delicious form of synthetic materials, carefully combined to titillate your taste buds, and ruin the rest of your body.

HOM used to stand for Home Office Mum. It made sense - I used to run my own business from home and was a mum. Now things have changed. I've sold my business and have a new quest: to figure out what to do next. For thought clarity, I go into a serene yoga pose and chant: HOM, HOM, HOM. That is until my inner peace is disturbed by the yells of two boys trying to decapitate each other. The road to enlightenment is longer with children.